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Listen to Flint Flow (feat. RMC Mike, KrispyLife Kidd, Louie Ray, Bfb Da Packman, YSR Gramz) by Babyfxce E

Flint Flow (feat. RMC Mike, KrispyLife Kidd, Louie Ray, Bfb Da Packman, YSR Gramz)

Babyfxce E

Hip-Hop/Rap

42,848

Apple Music Note

OVERVIEW

LYRICS

Music Video

Babyfxce E - Flint Flow (feat. RMC Mike, KrispyLife Kidd, Louie Ray, BFB Da Packman, and YSR Gramz)

Watch Babyfxce E - Flint Flow (feat. RMC Mike, KrispyLife Kidd, Louie Ray, BFB Da Packman, and YSR Gramz) on YouTube

Featured In

Listen to The X Tape by Babyfxce E

ALBUMThe X TapeBabyfxce E

Listen to Helluva: The Producers featuring Babyfxce E

PLAYLISTHelluva: The ProducersApple Music Hip-Hop

Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS

Bfb Da Packman

Vocals

KrispyLife Kidd

KrispyLife Kidd

Vocals

Louie Ray

Vocals

RMC Mike

Vocals

YSR Gramz

Vocals

Babyfxce E

Vocals

COMPOSITION & LYRICS

KrispyLife Kidd

KrispyLife Kidd

Songwriter

Efrem Jamar Blackwell

Efrem Jamar Blackwell

Songwriter

Jaquavis Damajanique Graham

Jaquavis Damajanique Graham

Songwriter

Marlon Lafayette Brown

Marlon Lafayette Brown

Songwriter

Michael Smith Jr.

Michael Smith Jr.

Songwriter

Orraccious Brown

Orraccious Brown

Songwriter

Tyree Jawan Thomas

Tyree Jawan Thomas

Songwriter

PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING

Kevin Spencer

Mixing Engineer

Enrgy

Producer

Lyrics

[Intro]

(Enrgy made this one)

[Verse 1]

Fifteen, all blues, I spent that on my coat

Finna grab a chunky-ass Cuban, I don't fuck with ropes

I ain't stingy with my bitches, I put 'em the floor

The windows don't roll down on this whip, I'm shootin' out the door

Five for a show, I ain't comin' if it ain't for sure

Dress the chop up, but I promise this bitch ain't for show

Smack my **** in his head, he tried to wife a ho

Know you ain't sick, check your temp, 'cause we'll wipe your nose

Bitch, yeah, we really on that

Stop bein' fake on tip if you ain't really on that

If I break up with my bitch, then I'm addin' all the hoes back

If I stop this rap shit, then I'm back up in that one bag

[Verse 2]

Bro got Glock on him, he ready to shoot shit like 4Sho Mag

On IG, just post my new bitch, got my hoes mad

Seen a **** on YouTube soundin' like me, that's my old bag

I been trappin' for so long, bitch, I'm still countin' old cash

Put a ten ball on a **** head, get him toe-tagged

**** cap so much in his raps, he got a gold hat

My brother said a **** touch Gramz, he givin' soul taps

I just texted this headhunter bitch, "I want my soul back"

Spent some bands in OSS, I gotta go back

I know he broke, he out here askin' where the hoes at

I just touched down in LA, where the 'bows at?

I wore this shit once and I can't find it, where my clothes at?

[Verse 3]

I'm tryna get whatever cost the most, ain't look at no Scat

I was puttin' Dolce & Gabbana on before rap

I barely take pictures with my **** 'cause they don't rap

I made so much money off this shit that I promote rap

She the type of bitch to bring the paper back, I got my ho snatched

I'm puttin' two grams in every blunt, blow the most wax

I'm tryna see what all you did out here like where your ho facts?

I got the most stats, got a buck on me and don't flex

Never notice what she used to do, I don't check

Never look into the shit you sayin', won't check

I should sign and not do the work, I hit her, got her **** hurt

I abuse everything I touch, overdo the syrup

[Verse 4]

Racin' Fxce to the location, I'm tryna kill him first

Young **** gettin' rich off rap, we got the city turnt

Like a bitch with an STD, I'm tryna get him burnt

Mickey Mouse on the ARP, let the titties jerk

Glass house on my left wrist, I paid the high for this

**** jumped fresh with his pistol just to die with it

How you fuck me, then my mans? Bitch, you trifling

Every day, I run into some cake with heavy icing

Fresh as hell slidin' on ****, the 'fit seven bands

Shit, on my way to the top, I lost several friends

Bitch, I'm a master, you can only meet me at level ten

I'm in a Demon, runnin' every light, who let the devil in?

[Verse 5]

The K I got, it got more shots than a hospital

I sold a tape to a landlord and went and bought a house with it

Back in the day, every verse I sold, I went and bought an ounce with it

Picked up my dribble and I still scored, and that's without pivot

Bitch, I hit you with a Kobe fadeaway

Woke up, felt like gettin' paid, well, that's every day

Shit talkin' opened up doors, I helped pave a way

Blow the cape straight off your back, tryna save the day

High as fuck off a deuce, I'm damn near unconcious

Hit him with the ass of the gun, now he unconcious

Make your bitch give me head every day, yeah, I love knowledge

They thought I signed a deal, but that was another sponsor

[Verse 6]

Yeah, Flint **** in this bitch, baby, get naked (Alright)

I'm sippin' on a six of PAI I got from Miss Gretchen

CiCi coldest out of North Flint, but the bitch messy

Waist tiny, ass super fat, look like Big Jessie

This ain't no diss, though, I'm just fact spittin' (Y'ello)

If the coochie can squirt, then the cat gifted

Bitch got Garfield in her panties, that's a fat kitten

My Regencies bitch got bedbugs, now my back itchin'

(The Lunch Crew Company)

Man, I'm just honest

I might go get Alexa back, but the bitch toxic

Finessin', serve a **** Tylenol, he think the shit watchin'

She think her **** hard, he only tough when he hit powder

**** a dusthead

DE with a switch, when I shoot, sound like a bus wreck (Boom)

I heard they said I fell off, I ain't let up yet (Y'ello)

Your **** sus, he always wanna have butt sex

Fxce said do a twelve, I did a sixteen

****'ll rob his own mama if he sip green

My granny said, "Why your Sprite so dark?" It's hibisc' tea

Mama think I smoke crack 'cause I'm ridin' 'round with six fiends (Free Rio and Big Meech)

[Verse 7]

Pack had me fucked up, I had to come back in

I ain't even rap too long, this a comeback ten

Was gettin' caught up textin' other bitches, had to cut back ten

Any ho I didn't want no more got put above the rim

Ayy, ****, I could rap circles around you

Keep that beat goin', wait

Yeah, I could rap circles around you

I used to scam, I could tell you somethin' personal 'bout you

I don't plan this shit I rap about, I don't rehearse when I'm talkin'

Thirty thousand and a Glock on me, it kinda hurt when I'm walkin'

Told Kidd, "Shut the fuck up, I can't work when you talkin'"

**** thought my pants didn't fit 'cause the burst in my joggers

Dumb-ass ****

It's with an X

Fxce

Written by: Efrem Jamar Blackwell, Jaquavis Damajanique Graham, KrispyLife Kidd, Marlon Lafayette Brown, Michael Smith Jr., Orraccious Brown, Tyree Jawan Thomas

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